Aftermath
by D. M. Evans
Summary: What waits for Angel and his friends in the aftermath of the battle?
1. Chapter 1

AFTERMATH  
By D.M. Evans  
Disclaimer – not mine. All characters belong to Mr. Whedon et al  
An Acquainted with the Night series story (progenitor story)  
Rating – FRT  
Pairing – None  
Time Line – Immediately post _Not Fade Away _  
Summary – What waits for Angel and his friends in the aftermath of the battle?

Author's Note - This is story #1 in the Acquainted with the Night multi-author series. Thanks to everyone in the group for the edits, suggestions and hand holding

CHAPTER ONE

Fresh death had a peculiar scent, a sourness as if life had lost a bitter battle. It permeated the air, soaking the pre-dawn breeze along with stench of smoke and the ripeness of spilled blood until the section of L.A. around the battlefield smelled of a charnel house. Blue and red lights knifed through air choked with smoke and powdery debris. Soon Angel would have to go underground but as thick as the smoke was, he might not need to. Sunlight most likely wouldn't be penetrating this today.

God, he wanted to rest. He wasn't sure when he last hurt this much. Maybe when Buffy had sent him to hell. He might even be there again for all he knew. _It certainly looks like it_, Angel thought as he carried a young girl's broken body to the area marked off by rescue workers. Bodies lined the broken area of street. If anyone noticed most of the victims were young girls, they were too stunned to say it. Slayers, dozens of them lay dead in a battle that wasn't theirs.

Buffy, if she had survived, would punch him for thinking it and tell him 'of course it was their battle. Things like this were always their battle.' He didn't know how the Slayers had found out about the danger. Giles had ignored his plea for help. Angel had known enough that help would be needed. He wasn't worried about his territory for a change. Had Giles had a change of heart? Had Wesley gotten through to the older Watcher?

He laid the dead girl down, thinking about all the every day heroics that had gone on around him during the fight. Like in the terrorist attacks in New York, police and fire fighters had charged into the area to help the civilians. Many died. Now, they were still flooding into the area to help the injured to triage stations then on to the hospitals. What kind of bravery did that take, given what had been raging on around them?

As he stood up, Angel caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. Angel whirled, hoping to see Buffy but it was Spike, a gash running from the left corner of his widow's peak to the right, hatchet-like angle of his jaw. Something had nearly split the vampire's head in two and Angel couldn't imagine how much it hurt. Yes, he could; he was fairly sure a piece of his rib cage had been opened like the door to a birdcage.

"Have you seen him?" Angel was almost shocked by his own question. Buffy had been on his mind but it was his heart that spoke first. Connor had ignored his order to leave the battle and he should have known Connor would. When did the boy ever listen? He had seen his son hacking through the demon horde with single-minded determination. Angel knew he should be proud Connor had chosen to die with him but instead he was terrified that the person who mattered most to him would most likely be killed horribly. He hadn't seen Connor since the battle ended.

"Who?" Spike looked ready to drop onto the pile of victims and just quietly go to dust.

"Connor."

"That yobbo who was ogling Illyria's tits a while back?" Spike shook his head, sending a spray of gore over his cheeks. " Not since you brought down the dragon." Spike managed a twisted smile. "Glory hound." The light in his eyes faded. "They'll be days pulling victims out of the rubble."

"I know." Angel cast an eye skyward but couldn't see through the smoke and haze. "We have time to help before the sun comes up…if it can even cut through this. You up to helping?"

Spike nodded. He didn't look like he could so much as move, but Angel knew Spike'd be damned before he let Angel know that. Together they tried to listen over all the noise of the rescue efforts and the moans of the already rescued for signs of life under the rubble. A few words from Spike got Illyria searching as well even though she didn't seem to grasp the importance. Angel spotted Faith, bloody-headed but helping to shift debris, looking for survivors. She managed a weak look of relief when she saw the vampires.

A few feet further past some smoking rubble, he saw Buffy helping a dreadlocked teen move debris off the teen's pinned leg. Buffy gave them a dead-eyed look, accusations hiding in those depths. Angel ignored her, pushing on. There were just two more faces he wanted desperately to see, Connor and Gunn. Angel thought he had seen Gunn being spirited away when the fight was still on going and police had come in to help in spite of the horrors. Of Connor, there were no signs.

"Angel, over here," Spike bellowed.

Angel hobbled over and saw Spike trying to move hunks of concrete. A hand with twitching fingers poked out from the rubble. Nervous twitching meant someone was still alive under the detritus. The vampires started heaving building materials away. Blood smell wafted up from the impromptu cairn along with an all too familiar scent.

"No, damn it, no!" Angel growled, tearing faster at the debris.

"What is it?" Spike asked as he shoved off a heavy hunk of junk. He looked down at the swollen, bloody face he had just uncovered. "Man, the kid you were looking for."

"Connor," Angel whispered, kneeling beside his fallen son. The young man's blackened puffy eyes tried to open and his mouth moved but made no sound. "Don't try to talk." Angel went to lift him and Connor screamed, blood bubbling out of his mouth.

"He's impaled, Peaches," Spike cried, pointing.

Angel saw the piece of rebar he thought was behind Connor's shoulder was actually sprouting through it. "Oh God." Angel tried to support Connor without moving him while Spike ran off bellowing for emergency services. Connor's eyes attempted to focus on Angel but they were glazed with so much pain that Angel couldn't telll if his son saw anything. Connor's face, where it wasn't bruised, was so pale, that it looked like porcelain. "It'll be okay, Connor. We'll get you out of here. Help's on the way," he said, even though he wasn't sure that was true.

If Spike could find someone, they could cut Connor free. The rebar might not even be anchored but he couldn't ease Connor down and see because that would mean moving him on the metal and making him bleed worse. Angel couldn't even finish digging his son free. Frustrated, Angel felt like screaming but it wouldn't help anything.

A pair of hands flashed into Angel's line of sight. Those hands started plucking rubble off his son. Angel glanced over his shoulder into Buffy's grim face. She refused to look at him as she worked, as if she couldn't bear the sight of him.

"Angel," Connor said, his voice breathy, his face going bluish.

Angel trembled. His boy wasn't getting enough air. "Shhh, don't talk."

"Demons at the Reillys…looking for me," Connor rasped out with a desperate air, as if he knew he was dying.

_Oh God, I never thought they'd come looking for him_. "Tell me later, Connor." Angel didn't want Connor to waste his air.

"Dead…except my sister…listen close. Remember," Connor demanded then rattled off a number and Angel committed it to memory. He could only assume that it was Connor's sister's cell phone number.

Spike came back with EMT's and Buffy backed away. She shot the vampires a dark look then faded off into the clouds of settling dust. Angel put her out of his mind as he watched the rescue workers carefully spirit his son away. He demanded to know where they were taking him. Angel wished that Connor would still be at that hospital once Angel was forced to stop his rescue efforts and had time to go and be with his son. He knew the boy could be sent anywhere given how over run the hospitals would be. He could only hope he would be able to find his son later. Angel would have to try and track down where Gunn had been taken as well.

Angel tried to pretend that what might be happening to Connor would all be good. They'd remove the rebar going through him and get him stitched up. They'd have enough blood to make his cheeks pink up and get warm. He hoped Connor knew just how much he loved him, just in case. Angel threw himself into the rescue efforts but when the sun started peeking through the umbrella of dust, he gratefully escaped underground to start his search his child.


	2. Accusations

CHAPTER TWO

Angel tried hard to ignore all the agony around him. He couldn't escape the feeling that he was responsible for it all, that if not for him, this hospital wouldn't be filled with causalities. He knew the truth was Wolfram and Hart would have enacted this without him and he had done his best to stop this but had he tried hard enough? Could he have possibly averted all of this? The thoughts were just too hard. If he thought about the "what if's" he might go mad. Connor groaned softly but didn't really regain consciousness but it was enough to drag Angel's attention back to reality.

He hoped his son would be fine now with units of blood pumped back into him and the holes stitched up. Angel tried not to tremble as the doctors told him that there could be nerve damage and how lucky Connor was to be alive. Angel wondered if his son would be able to walk again. He had no idea if Connor could survive being paralyzed. It was unimaginable. Connor was about movement and the fight. Angel didn't think he could live otherwise. The doctor told him a neurosurgeon would be around at some point to assess Connor but they couldn't tell Angel when.

"Who is he?"

Angel snapped around a the sound of Buffy's voice. She stood behind him with Faith. Both Slayers looked exhausted beyond words. "Connor Reilly. I'm trying to get in touch with his sister, Kathy." Angel almost lost control at the mention of the name. He hadn't realized that was the girl's name and he had to wonder if it had been done on purpose or if it was just a strange coincidence. He had never learned how the Reillys had been selected. Was there a son Connor took the place of or did the magic rewrite everything right down to childhood photos? Angel had never thought about it before. Had Wolfram and Hart murdered a boy and put Connor in his place? "She's not answering her phone."

"That doesn't really explain why you're sitting here," Buffy said. "A better questions is why were you trying to fight those things alone? Did you know this was coming Angel?" Buffy's face went utterly white, almost like a death mask. Faith leaned against the wall, looking exhausted as she let Buffy lead.

"I didn't know how bad it would be but I expected to die," he answered honestly.

"How could you risk the world like this?" Buffy snapped, angry red splotches rising on her cheeks. "Have you gone so bad that you don't care any more?"

"We barely got here in time," Faith added, looking less angry and more confused, as if her idol had toppled.

Angel got up, his body shaking with his own barely contained rage. How dare they? It wasn't his doing. "You want to blame someone, blame your Watcher!" His voice snarled out like a wild cat. "I called for help. Giles turned me down."

Buffy and Faith went pasty. Buffy tried to hold onto her strength and anger but failed. Faith didn't even bother.

"I don't even know how you found out we were going to our deaths," Angel said, wondering how the Slayers had known. There hadn't been time to ask.

"Giles couldn't have known," Buffy stammered, her eyes huge.

"Ask him. He told me Willow wasn't in this plane of existence and that I wasn't able to be trusted." Angel tried to let his anger drain away. It served no purpose. He should just take the blame and leave them their illusions. He'd been the scapegoat so many times before but something had broken inside of him. He was tired of taking the blame for things he didn't do. Angel took a step closer, looming over the Slayers. "You decided I had gone evil, not just me but Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Spike, too. Didn't even occur to any of you how ludicrous that was to have five of us go bad at once? And what's worse is, if you actually believed we were evil, why didn't you try to stop us or even investigate? You all wrote us off, had that idiot Wells run interference for you and when I asked for help so this could have been avoided, you left us on our own. So take your blame and put it where it belongs." Angel's voice never raised above a cold whisper and the frost reached his eyes.

"Da…" Connor's rough voice broke into the tirade. "Da…d."

Angel whipped around, his anger dropped like white hot metal. He sat back down, taking his son's hand. "I'm right here, Connor. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." Angel smoothed Connor's hair, trying not to see the oxygen tubing running across the boy's face.

"What did he call you?" Buffy's voice trembled.

"He's my son. It's too long a story for now." Angel wanted to fall asleep right where he was, even if it crushed Connor. He was that tired and without his anger powering him there was nothing left. He wasn't up to the barrage of questions he could see in the Slayers' stunned eyes.

"Kathy?" Connor muttered, trying to get up.

"No answer. It's daylight. I can't…" Angel spread his hands helplessly.

"Find her," Connor begged, struggling to sit up but Angel forced him down onto the thin mattress. "Don't know if she can…might be in attic…or basement."

Tucking Connor's hand back under the covers, Angel turned in his chair to face the Slayers. "Can you help me?"

Faith didn't hesitate. "What do you need?"

"Connor's sister…another long story. She was in the house when demons came for Connor. He doesn't know if she escaped or if she's been killed. I can't go and check on her. I know you're exhausted but…"

"Give us the address," Buffy said, obvious shelving all her hostility and all her questions for later. There was a job to do and Angel was grateful that she was willing to help him in spite of her anger. Connor rasped out the address.

"Thank you." Angel sighed in relief.

"We'll try to bring her home," Buffy said, turning on her heel. Faith glanced back at Angel as she followed Buffy, curiosity and hurt gleaming in her dark eyes.

Angel sat and took his son's hand out from where he had buried it under the thin covers. He was grateful to be alone with his son again. For once, Connor wasn't blaming him for anything and he was going to treasure that. "They'll find her," he promised, even though he had his doubts. Chances were Kathy was long dead.

"Who…" Connor swallowed hard, his eyes closing in pain. "Lived?"

Wesley was killed by Vail," Angel replied honestly. He would take the blame for that. If he hadn't involved Vail in his son's life, they would never have had to deal with the bastard. "Illyria killed Vail in return. She's still out there helping to hunt down the demons that escaped from the rift. Lorne left before the battle. He asked for an out."

"Coward," Connor hissed, his hand squeezing Angel's.

"Lorne wasn't meant for this, Connor. He's not a warrior," Angel chided gently.

Connor's lip curled. "Still."

"Gunn's badly hurt. He's here in the hospital, too. I don't…he might not make it."

Connor's face creased with concern. "Like Gunn," he managed to get out, before seeming to deflate even further into the bedding.

"Gunn likes you as well," Angel said, desperate to keep his son talking. If Connor was talking, Angel could convince himself that it all would eventually work out. He couldn't let in the despair or he'd never make it through the pain.

"Is the world…" Another hard, pain-filled swallow shook Connor's thin body. "Dying?"

"The Slayers came, dozens of them. Many of them died," Angel answered regretfully. "But the demons were mostly contained. We'll deal with what did escape." Angel's eyes misted. "You were supposed to be out of this, Connor." He stroked his son's cheek. "You weren't supposed to get hurt."

"I tried. I got them killed. My parents died and it's my fault." Once the long sentence was out, Connor's strength failed completely. Tears started falling as his body quaked.

"Shh, Connor. Don't cry. You didn't do this. You're not to blame," Angel said, caressing his son's face. "Shhh, son, you'll hurt your insides shaking and crying like this. I need you to calm down."

"What do I do if Kathy's dead?"

Angel's heart broke at the expression on his son's face. "We'll find a way to go on," he promised. "And it doesn't help thinking the worse. Try to get some rest, Connor. Leave your sister in the Slayers' hands. I'll stay with you and when you sleep, I'll go check on Gunn."

Connor's eyes fixed on Angel. "You need sleep."

Angel nodded. "I'll nap in the chair but I'll be right here, if you need me." Angel gently squeezed Connor's hand. His son's fingers closed over his and held on until his hand relaxed in sleep.

"Do you think that there's a prayer this girl is alive?" Faith turned to Buffy as they entered the Reilly home.

"Take a look around," Buffy said sarcastically, gesturing at the living room.

Faith paused, seeing the slaughtered people in the living room. She wrinkled her nose against the stench of blood and bowel. "Connor's parents…or whatever the hell they were."

"I refuse to think about it," Buffy replied, her voice flat.

"The way you're refusing to think about the possibility Angel is telling the truth about Giles?" Faith's dark eyebrows arched and the younger Slayer expected Buffy to take a swing on her for suggesting it.

"If Angel is…I don't know what to do," Buffy admitted, in a defeated tone that frightened Faith.

"I don't think Giles could possibly have known, B. Not that I'm saying Angel's lying, just that Giles must not have thought it would be this bad. He wouldn't have…" Faith trailed off, glancing at Buffy. Did the blonde Slayer ever guess how jealous Faith had been of Buffy and Giles' father-daughter thing? How she had longed for it herself and how disappointed Faith had been when Giles didn't have time for her and Wesley had been a total ass? Faith hated thinking Giles could stand by and let something like this happen. "We don't know exactly what Angel told Giles. Angel's not Mr. Share. He might not have given enough details."

"I know. I mean that has to be it. Giles wouldn't have ignored something this big," Buffy said uncertainly.

"But what if he did?" Faith asked in a small voice, her face pale.

"He didn't. Giles wouldn't," Buffy snapped and Faith curled her lip at her.

"Don't take off my head, B. Angel doesn't lie much, right? That's more Angelus' gig. Do you think Angelus would have been out there sifting rubble for bodies? Angel isn't evil…just something went wrong, a miscommunication. I mean, he knew that Willow had jumped dimensions. He had to have talked to Giles to know that," Faith insisted, looking at what was left of Connor's...parents?

"You have to be right," Buffy said, relenting. She wanted Faith to be right. Buffy knelt down, examining the dead bodies. It looked like the man might have been trying to shield the woman. Something had twisted his head around so it was looking backwards and looked like it had gnawed out a kidney. The woman had a horrified expression still on her face and her intestines had been strewn about like streamers. Buffy felt her bile rising. She had seen a lot of death but usually it was cleaner than this. "Maybe Angel didn't sound the alarm hard enough. Look at this." She stood up, waving a hand at the Reillys. "It was a slaughter. Do you honestly think Connor's sister could have survived this?"

"Maybe she ran or hid real well," Faith countered. "Connor said to try the basement and the attic."

"Well, we're here," Buffy started to look for the entrance to either place. Going down the basement stairs, she paused at a pile of blue goo. "What the hell was that?"

"Something Connor killed," Faith said unhelpfully as she stepped over it and continued to the basement. "He must have held his own pretty well."

"I don't know how he survived the building falling on him," Buffy said. "Then again, if he truly is Angel's son, I guess a building might not be enough…this is insane. I'm talking about Angel having a kid." Buffy slammed a hand into a doorframe in a fit of temper.

"He seemed pretty convinced of his parenthood," Faith said, peering behind the furnace. "But it is nuts. I mean, Angel's dead."

"I know," Buffy replied melancholically. "And why all of this? Why is Connor with these people? Why does he think he have a sister?"

"I don't know. I noticed Angel didn't say he had a daughter." Faith shook her head. "I can't handle all of this. It's just…wrong."

"Angel has a lot of explaining to do," Buffy said softly.

Both Slayers quieted as they poked into every spot in the basement someone could conceivable hide. There was nothing. Faith was beginning to think maybe Buffy was right; no one had survived here. They went back upstairs and tried to find the attic.

Faith prowled into a feminine bedroom full of flowery curtains and bedspread. The walls were covered with alt bands and fantasy posters and pictures of horses. Pink walls peeked out around the posters. It was definitely a room for a young girl who was slowly outgrowing the childish pink and yellow décor that Mom probably wouldn't let her change. Posters were the girl's counterattack on childhood. Faith poked under the bed then into the closet. "Here's the attic," she said, pulling the door down out of the closet ceiling. Heat boiled down from above.

She and Buffy cautiously walked up the wooden steps. The sound of a cocking gun made them freeze. Faith's gaze snapped around the room and she saw a girl huddled in the corner, pointing a pistol at them. The smell of sweat and something terribly skunky filled the room. "Whoa! Human here!" Faith threw up her hands to show they were empty.

"Are you Kathy?" Buffy looked for a place that might be adequate cover if the girl opened fire. The dark-haired teen glistened with sweat, partly from fear the Slayers didn't doubt, and partly because the sealed off attic must be close to ninety degrees. "Connor sent us to help you."

"C-C-Connor." The girl barely got the word out. The gun shook in her hand but not so much that Faith thought the girl would miss them if she pulled the trigger. She obviously knew how to fire the weapon.

Faith nudged Buffy and nodded toward another pile of blue goo. "Did you nail that thing, Kathy?"

"Those…things killed Mom and Dad," Kathy said through chattering teeth.

"I'm sorry," Buffy replied, taking a step forward. "We need to get you out of here before something else comes looking for you."

"Looking?" Kathy squeaked out, lowering her gun.

"The things that killed your parents didn't get here by accident. They were sent," Buffy said.

"We need to grab a few of your things and get gone," Faith put in, glancing around uneasily. The attic wasn't a roomy place to fight.

"I killed it." Kathy gestured to the goo with the tip of her pistol. "But I couldn't seal off the attic…nothing else came. Where's Connor? Why didn't he come with you? He fought them…never knew he could…he was like nothing I've ever seen. My skinny brother kicking ass like…Jackie Chan or something."

"He probably bought you the time you needed to hide," Faith said.

Tears filled Kathy's eyes. She started to shake. "Did they kill him, too?"

"No, Connor's alive but he has been hurt. He's in the hospital. A lot of people were hurt by…terrorists," Buffy said, having heard that excuse on the radio. "He was in that attack. He'll be all right. We'll take you to him."

"They weren't terrorists! They weren't human." Kathy got to her feet, weak from fear and dehydration. "Ever since Connor got run over by that car…things have been strange."

"We'll try to explain on the way to the hospital but we should go. Let's get some of your things," Buffy said, gently taking the girl's arm. Kathy reminded her so much of Dawn when their mother had died, it nearly broke her heart.

Kathy stumbled down the steps, not letting go of her gun until she got to her bed. She put it on the mattress then reached back into the closet for her luggage. She started grabbing clothes and shoes out of the closet and just stuffing. "Connor's room is across the hall. We'll have to take his stuff."

"I'll get on it," Faith said, leaving the room.

Kathy looked at Buffy. "Will the police think I killed my parents if I just pack up and run?"

"I don't think so," Buffy said, not actually sure. She could see the girl was in shock, acting only on instinct.

"My aunt…was she down there, too? She was here," Kathy said, going into the drawers for underwear.

"We went through the house. I didn't see her, sorry," Buffy said, trying hard not to think about what might have happened to the woman. She found herself hoping either the woman managed to make a break for it or that she died quickly.

Kathy swallowed hard and continued to work even as she cried silently.

Faith clattered in with a big roll-along suitcase. "Connor's got the world's biggest collection of Star Trek dvd's rivaled only by Harris and Wells and the kid wears Spongebob Squarepants boxers."

"I got him those…he likes plaid too much," Kathy said, zipping up her luggage. "I want to see my parents."

Buffy touched her shoulder. "I don't think you really want to see them like that. They wouldn't want you remembering them…not all torn up. Is there a back door we can go out?"

Kathy nodded. "There's a picture on the mantle piece of the whole family. We just took it a few weeks ago. I want it."

"You get the kid out to the car and I'll go get the picture," Faith said, wheeling around with the luggage. "Kathy, you might want to hang onto that gun."

"I have extra bullets in my pockets," she said grimly.

"Good for you," Faith said then headed downstairs.

Buffy carried Kathy's bag for her out to the Ford Focus rental. They had gotten the tiny thing before the battle and at the moment Buffy was glad for it. It might be a sardine can but it needed little gas and it could skirt around the traffic easily. Faith came out and they crammed the suitcases in the back.

Faith drove. Kathy sat in the back, softly crying to herself. The Slayer glanced over at Buffy. "B, where are we going to be staying? I have to crash."

"Guess we'd better get back to the hospital and ask Angel that question," Buffy said. "I don't think hotels are an option at this point."

"What about my parents?" Kathy asked. "We can't just leave them lying there forever."

"We'll call the police and let them know once we get to the hospital," Buffy promised. "They'll take good care of your parents for you."

Kathy just went back to looking out the window. Buffy knew that probably hadn't sounded very convincing but it was the best she had. She was just so tired at this point she wanted to drop off while Faith drove but there was more to do yet, so much more. Days like today were ones she wished someone would hit the rewind button for.


	3. Outside Help

CHAPTER THREE

In the tight quarters of their temporary headquarters, Spike shifted on his makeshift mattress. Most everyone slept through the night and well into the day, including him. Even Angel who had put up a huge fight when the hospital made him leave when visiting hours were up had slept until the sun had set once more. Everyone was tucked away in a warehouse that Lorne owned. Wolfram and Hart had set the demon up with the building with an eye to reclaiming the warehouse area for a club.

Lorne had managed to even get a little bedding to lay on the floor and some food for the Slayers but no blood. It was almost enough to make Spike forgive the demon for sticking it to them in the end. He couldn't believe Lorne had just run out on them when every fighter was needed. He didn't want to hear Peaches' lame excuses about letting Lorne go, how he wasn't a warrior. It was weak. It was even weaker that Lorne required cajoling to allow them in the warehouse, as if the mere presence of the Slayers would bring more demons. In all fairness, there was some truth to that dear. He glanced around to see if Illyria was accounted for. The demoness was in a corner, maybe asleep. Did she even do that? Spotting Angel prowling around restlessly, Spike made his way over.

"I'm debating if I'm too tired to go back out there right now or not," Spike said, even if there was no real debate. He knew he was going to go but he wanted to leave an out if Angel was too injured or exhausted.

Angel spread his hands wide. "I'm going. I need something to take my mind off the hospital."

"Care to tell me about Junior?" Spike put a cigarette to his lips then glanced around at the sleeping Slayers and settled for sucking on the filter. "I heard Buffy and Faith talking, not to me mind you, but about us, you more so than me." Spike managed to look hurt at this. "They were talking nonsense about the scrawny mite in the hospital being your brat but we both know Dru and Penn are the only type of kids you can have. I know the yob was a Wolfram and Hart project."

"You heard them right." Angel scrubbed a hand over his hair, feeling the grit. He needed a shower but there just wasn't time or facilities. "It's a very long story and I'm not in the mood to tell it again."

Spike opened his mouth to protest but the defeated look on his grandsire's face made him rethink it. This wasn't the time to be irritating anyone. "What happens now?"

Angel shook his head. "I have no answers, Spike. I'm not even sure how the rift closed or why we're still alive."

"I can probably help you there."

Both vampires turned to look at Lorne. The demon's eyes were dulled with fatigue and his color had gone dead fish green. "I called Meerna and some other dimensional experts. They managed to get the portal closed."

Spike looked at Loren a little less hostilely. The demon had done what he was best suited at, putting the right people together to get results. "Thanks."

Angel nodded, managing a grateful look. "Good work, Lorne, and about that other matter I asked you do to…I'm sorry. That was wrong of me. I should have handled it myself."

Lorne's lips thinned. "Yes, you should have but it's done."

Angel nodded again and Spike wondered what kind of unpleasant task the green demon had been assigned to do. Whatever it was, he could see the toll it had taken. "Lorne, the Slayers need a safe place to stay for the duration while the city's in chaos. There's nowhere for them to go. Is it possible-"

"They can stay here," Lorne cut in, his body tensing as he looked at the sleeping women, some mere girls.

Spike could see the surprise in Angel's eyes. "Are you sure?"

Lorne nodded. His eyes dimmed as he gave something a moment's thought. "I was thinking of heading out of town and you can have the warehouse for as long as you need. I was on my way to new endeavors even before the attack. This will work out for the both of us."

Angel's lips pulled into a thin line. "We could use the help here, Lorne."

"I've never been a warrior, Angel-cakes." Lorne held up his hands. "You know that, no matter what we shared in the past."

"You're good at putting people together and getting resources to where they need to be," Spike argued, noting Angel's nod of agreement. "The Slayers could use that."

"Most of my lines have been cut," Lorne hedged, looking at the vampires uneasily.

"Cut or not, you'll do better at it than me and Spike," Angel contended.

Lorne shoulder's slumped under his stained silk shirt. "I could give it a try for a little while."

"That's all I can ask and thanks." Angel sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. "Getting out of town sounds good to me, too, Lorne. It really does."

Spike looked at Angel, shocked. He hadn't expect to hear defeat. Angel was usually Mr. Perseverance; well, Angelus had been and Buffy-influenced Angel seemed to share the trait. Angel looked utterly defeated. Of course, taking a peek outside could make anyone feel vanquished. Lorne just nodded and moved off.

Tapping Angel's shoulder, Spike nodded over to where Buffy and Faith were sleeping. "What are we going to do about them?"

Angel shrugged. That wasn't the response Spike wanted. Angel usually had a plan. "I don't know. They're not exactly our biggest fans right now."

"Well, we did get them involved in a battle that killed off a lot of their kind and let demons run loose but this cold shoulder shit isn't about that, is it? It has to do with what that little prat, Andrew, said." Spike curled his lip then made air quotes as he said, "We've gone evil."

"Got it in one," Angel said sardonically, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I pointed out that, in that case, shouldn't they have done more about it, like kill us when they found out. Right now they're not happy on so many levels."

"We probably should talk to them," Spike ventured uneasily. He wasn't looking forward to it and his senses were screaming to run out into the night. He didn't like being surrounded by so many Slayers.

A banging on the man-door of the warehouse echoed through the building. Several Slayers woke as the vampires exchanged looks and started for the door. Angel cautiously opened it and only saw a shadow at first in the pale safety light then the outline of a very large gun. The man at the door stood in police position off to the side for his own safely. He peeled off his Kevlar helmet.

Angel knew the freshly revealed farm boy face all too well. "Riley," he said, softly.

Finn's blue eyes were hard and tired. "Some of the demons know you and the Slayers are here."

"I guessed that someone must know if you're standing on our doorstep," Angel replied, wearily. Spike shifted from foot to foot, irritated that Riley hadn't even addressed him and assume that Angel was in charge. "How many teams of demon-hunting military men are here?"

"Not enough," Riley said, his voice betraying his fatigue.

Angel took a step back. "Come in. You look like you could use a place to rest."

"Probably should tell Buffy and Faith that Soldier Boy's back in town," Spike said, noticing Riley's lips tighten at the mention of the girls' names.

Finn nodded and beckoned to his companions. Several weary and bloodied soldiers came inside the warehouse and Angel barred the door behind them.

"Good to see you here, Soldier Boy," Spike said, studying Riley's tired face. "We could use your help."

"Bet you never thought you'd say that." Riley's lips quirked up.

Spike snorted.

"Spike's right though. The Slayers are exhausted and Spike and I are only good at night." Angel glanced back at the door. "Which I know it is now but we got torn up pretty good."

"How far did the demons spread?"

Spike hadn't heard Buffy's approach but he wasn't surprised at her question nor over the fact that she and Faith practically materialized at their side.

"They've gotten as far as the Midwest already," Riley replied then his face softened a bit. "Hello, Buffy." The hard mask went back on when he added, "Faith."

Faith didn't look too put out at his anger, as if expecting it. The group moved deeper into the warehouse away from the curious eyes of the younger Slayers who had roused at the knocking at the door. Riley's men just started sagging down wherever there was enough open space to lie down in. Riley sat against the wall and the others ringed around him.

"There are only three teams here in L.A.," he said without preamble. "More teams have gone after the leading edge of the hoard. I'll assume you all know what in the hell happened."

Spike and Angel took turns telling the story with some interjections from the Slayers. Riley just listened silently, taking it all in. "But the rift is close?" he asked at the end.

Angel nodded, shifting his weight painfully, letting the wall support him. "According to Lorne. I don't know how badly I damaged Wolfram and Hart by killing their liaison. The building is gone but both were just the tip of a multi-dimensional iceberg."

"How did you get involved with them?" Riley asked and Buffy looked acutely embarrassed that he had asked the one question no one from her crew had thought to. They had just assumed the worst.

"Another long story," Angel sighed and shared an abridged version. Spike was shocked by some of the details since they were ones he had asked about earlier in regards to the kid Angel was so ripped up about, and was told Angel was too tired to tell the story. Even Spike had trouble believing parts of it.

Riley's eyes widened more and more as Angel's story went on. "You have a son?" was all he could say.

"He's in the hospital," Buffy said with enough sympathy to catch Angel's attention. She sagged a little, resting back on her elbows.

"This is a lot to absorb…and then forget. The government doesn't need to know any of this," Riley said, shaking his head.

Angel sighed like Atlas had come back to take the world back off the vampire's shoulders. "Thanks.

"Yes, thanks Riley." Buffy reached out to him then suddenly remembered he was off limits now and dropped her hand. "How do you want our Slayers to work with you and your men?"

Riley rubbed his face. "Let me catch a few minutes of sleep then ask me. How many of there are you?"

"Less than there was a day ago," Faith said sharply, casting her gaze out over the girls bedded down in the warehouse. "Most of the ones left are the older girls. They've all been at it for a year now but a lot of the younger ones were picked off long before this, before we could even find them. A lot more died during the battle." She sounded bone-weary and just a little sick.

"Is it just us and your men or is there other help coming?" Spike interjected, resisting the urge to put a comforting hand on Faith's shoulder.

"For the demon problem, it's just us." Riley rubbed his face. "The National Guard is coming to deal with the looters and other wastes of skin that take advantage of the chaos."

"Do we stand a chance of stopping all of this?" Buffy asked, looking afraid of the answer.

"There's a good chance," Riley said, his eyes starting to droop.

Buffy glanced back at the sleeping soldiers. "I don't see Sam." There was a hint of worry and jealousy in her voice.

"She's in Wisconsin," he said with a warm smile. "With our daughter, Rachael. She's six months old."

Spike noted the slight forced nature of Buffy's smile. He felt sorry for her. She still obviously had a little feeling left for Riley…not to mention for Angel and himself. Could there be much left of her heart to share?

"That's great, Riley, congratulations," she said, managing to sound happy for him.

"She's beautiful. When I'm not dead, I'll show you a picture," Riley promised either too proud a father to notice his former lover's discomfort or too tired to care.

"Get some sleep. There's still some hours left of night. Spike and I will be going out. I feel rested enough," Angel said, even though Spike knew it was mostly bravado. The vampire looked spent.

Riley didn't argue. He just folded up on the floor. The vampires and Slayers moved off to let him sleep.

"I think some of the girls are ready to go back out there," Faith said, waving a hand at some of the girls who were on their feet.

Angel nodded. "We can divide up the city."

Buffy nodded. "Good idea. You two are still injured. Are you sure you're up to it?"

Spike smiled at the Slayer, pleased that she was beginning to thaw towards them, maybe seeing that this wasn't all their fault. "We still have some fight in us."

"Spike's right. We've rested enough," Angel said. "It's time to take the fight back out there."

"I'll go get Illyria," Spike said, moving off to round her up.

Spike found himself looking forward to it. He had nothing to prove, he told himself but in the back of his mind he knew he did, at least to himself. Besides, he was being useless here. Damn them all for making him more comfortable with being a white hat than being where he, by nature, belonged. He shoved that thought out of his mind as he followed his grandsire into the night.


	4. Lies and Prophecy

Chapter Four

Hearing the unmistakable sounds of a fight, Riley rounded a corner and saw vampires in front of a darkened bodega surrounding a scrawny young man. Counting on his body armor to help protect him against the skewed odds, Riley tried to sneak up behind one of the vampires. To his surprise, the young man grabbed one of the creatures and snapped its neck, seemingly effortlessly.

As two vampires rushed the boy, he whipped around, coming up with a stake in either hand. He dusted the pair with an ease the soldier had only seen in Slayers. Feeling almost useless, Riley dusted the last vampire after felling it with a taser.

He walked over to the young man. "You really shouldn't be out here alone. It's not safe," Riley said by rote, knowing it was a joke. Only then did he see a smudge of blood on the young man's shirt.

The boy put a hand over that area, sucking in a deep breath to hide his pain. "I guess I'm lucky you came along then. I might have broken a sweat otherwise."

The sarcasm clicked in Riley's mind. "Let me guess, Angel's teenaged son."

Connor smirked. "Name's Connor. Given Dad's dead on description, you must be Riley."

"That good of a description? Should I worry your Dad's astutely studying his prey?" Riley smirked back.

"I am not." Angel leaped off the top of a near by building. "Connor, care to explain why I'm busy chasing you through the streets at night again?"

"Because you're a pain in the ass worrywart?" Connor rolled his eyes at his father.

"And you're bleeding and that means you're going home now," Angel said, taking his son's arm.

Connor yanked free, muttering, "But I can help out here." He started walking away from Angel. 

"Your blood is setting off a beacon and you know it. What you don't know is your blood is extra tasty, like Slayer's blood," Angel explained impatiently, pulling Connor to a halt.

"Was that as creepy as it sounded to me?" Connor asked Riley with a shudder.

"Very," Riley replied. "If you two are going to stand around bickering, I'm heading back to base. Dawn and Giles should be there soon."

"What?" Angel growled, his eyes flashing gold.

As Connor raised an eyebrow, curious, Riley took a step back from the obvious rage emanating from the vampire. "Didn't Buffy tell you?" he asked hesitantly, realizing he had spilled the beans.

"Buffy doesn't tell me anything, apparently," Angel snarled, slamming a fist against the side of his leg. "We'll go back with you."

"Dad, can you stop making decisions for me," Connor moaned, dragging a hand through his hair.

"You're hurt. You're going back home," Angel said, his lips tight.

Connor's jaw set stubbornly. "I'm nineteen. I'll do what I want."

"Fine." Angel poked Connor on the chest right over the wound. The boy doubled up. Angel grabbed his arm, propelling him towards a car a few blocks away. "He got impaled," Angel said to Riley. "And buried alive. I'm sure the rubble inflicted brain damage."

"I'm the same as always," Connor protested, a peeved expression on his face. "The brain damage is genetic."

Angel looked over at Riley. "Don't blink. Before you know it, your daughter will be a know-it-all teen, too."

Riley shook his head, hoping Angel didn't see the vague amusement on his face over this. "I'm pretending it'll never happen. She'll always be a little angel."

Angel snorted and gestured at Connor. "Mine grew horns and a tail."

"I'm half demon. What were you expecting?" Connor asked and Angel gave him a look. "Oh, right, a little angel." Connor grinned. "I am a little angel. I'm so like you it's not funny."

Riley bit his lip to keep from snickering.

"Laugh and you'll meet with a tragic death, Finn," Angel warned, stabbing a finger against Riley's bulletproof vest.

"Not laughing," Riley said, his body quaking as he snickered behind his hand.

Angel just growled and waited for the younger men to climb into the nondescript beater of a car. The ride home was punctuated with snide comments from Connor and barely contained laughter from Riley. Both ceased as the trio went into the warehouse as if the younger men sensed Angel's increasingly foul mood.

Most of the warehouse was empty, the Slayers out scouring the city except for the few who had been on the day shift and were asleep on their cots. Connor's sister was curled up on a cot, not sleeping. Angel wished he knew where Illyria was. The vampire saw Spike hovering around the office door at the back of the warehouse. He was surprised the blond vampire hadn't just broken in, instead of eavesdropping. Angel had no such reservations. He banged on the door then threw it open, dragging Connor inside with him.

"Excuse me," Angel said as pleasantly as he could. The two Slayers looked annoyed at his interruption. Giles went pale. Dawn just gazed at him curiously. "Connor, sit and take off your shirt. I need the med-kit."

Faith handed it to him wordlessly. Buffy moved closer to Giles as if expecting Angel to simply kill him. Connor glanced worriedly at Dawn then back to Angel.

"Dawn's Buffy's sister. She doesn't care if you're shirtless," Angel said dismissively then caught a wide-eyed look on Giles' usually composed face. He had never seen Giles look like that. "What is it, Giles?" Angel could barely swallow back his anger at the other man.

"It can't be," Giles said, then broke off, glancing away.

"Any reason why no one told me Giles and Dawn were coming?" Angel asked, yanking Connor's shirt off over his head when his son showed no signs of doing it himself.

"Ow, Dad, leave my nose on my face!" Connor whined, rubbing the offended appendage then covered the bloody bandage on his chest as if to hide the damage from his father.

"It didn't concern you, Angel. Giles has information on something big starting that the Slayers need to look into," Buffy said, folding her arms across her chest. Her stance said she was trying to regain control of the room .

"Funny, I thought maybe it was because you knew that we were angry because Rupert told us to go piss up a rope when we asked for help," Spike said, leaning on the door frame.

Buffy's lips pulled into a thin line. "Spike, we've told you before Giles didn't…."

"I did," Giles said so soft it was barely audible.

"What?" Buffy and Faith asked in one voice. They couldn't look more surprised.

"I didn't know…had no idea it would be like this." Giles rubbed a hand over his mouth.

"How could you do this?" Dawn stood up abruptly. "If they asked for help..." She waved a hand at the vampires. "It's back to them being evil again right? I never believed it but hey, I'm just the kid sister with bad judgment." Dawn flung her hair back in a move characteristically like her older sister's. "Which okay, I can see your point since I've made a lot of bone head moves but at least I didn't take Andrew's word on anything. That nitwit tried to kill me with a sword when I was risking my life to save him from Willow. Would it have killed any of you to have called and talked to Angel and Spike? Giles, you should have known better. Faith, I guess you were too busy trying to prove you belonged with the group to be bothered checking with Angel. After, all, what did he ever do for you? And you Buffy, you're too busy trying to pretend you never knew them in the first place." Dawn's voice had gone shrill by the time her tirade was over. Her chest heaved, her body shaking.

"Done now?" Buffy asked, her face blank as she tried to bury her pain and anger. Giles simply looked defeated and Faith's head drooped like a wilting flower.

Dawn bobbed her head and everyone stood in awkward silence. Angel just kept changing the dressing on his son's wounds. Riley looked like he wanted to escape since this didn't actually involve him.

"We didn't do well," Buffy said softly, putting her hands over her mouth.

"It's my fault, all of this," Giles said in a broken voice. The Watcher looked ready to collapse.

Angel stopped what he was doing and turned to face the Watcher and his Slayers. "Why did you all just assume that five of us had gone bad at once? Was it simply that we worked for Wolfram and Hart?"

Giles shook his head, leaning against the wall, looking old. "I had the Los Angeles Slayers keeping an eye on you because of your involvement with the law firm. It was the recording that convinced me you had crossed over."

"What?" Angel asked and saw the confusion in the ladies' eyes as well.

"We received a DVD of you fighting and killing…him." Giles pointed at Connor. "I was deceived."

"Dad did kill me," Connor said, very non-chalantly. "Then had me brought back and remade kinda…I sort of forced him into the killing." He shrugged, wincing as it pulled on his wound. "I wanted it all to end."

Angel taped off the gauze then put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Giles, didn't you see me saving all those people in the mall or see the bomb Connor had around his waist?"

Giles looked utterly lost. Buffy took his arm and sat him down in the chair Dawn had vacated. Giles scrubbed a hand over his face, nearly losing his glasses. "There was no bomb or other people, just you killing a teenager in an empty store. The note that came with it said 'see what Angelus is up to lately'." 

"Someone set us all up," Spike growled. "Let me guess, they altered the bloody recording, right?"

"I thought all of the accounts of Connor's mental break down had been destroyed," Angel said, his fingers digging into his son's shoulder. "The Senior Partners probably had Eve send that to you, Giles. They knew it would be too dangerous for me to have ties to the Slayers. We might have stopped them from doing…this."

"I'm totally confused," Faith said, clenching her fists, frustrated. "You killed your son? And you, kid, what's with the bomb?"

"It's another of those long stories. In a nutshell, I had to kill my daughter, lost my marbles, took hostages and gave Dad a choice, kill me or I kill them," Connor said, pulling on his shirt.

"People keep doing that to you, don't they Angel?" Faith asked, a wry smile tugging her lips. "I did something similar," she added for Connor's sake. "It's how I ended up in prison."

"What I don't understand is why didn't you tell us, Giles?" Buffy's voice was tight, her body equally tense.

Giles put a hand on her arm. "Because you've been so distant ever since you came back from…" His eyes squeezed shut briefly. "I understand why, of course. This hard shell of yours must hide the fragility inside. I didn't think you could withstand learning it was very possible Angelus was back and Spike had joined with him. I set the local Slayers to keep an eye on them and it was rather puzzling that they didn't do anything that one would have suspected them to do if they were evil."

"You should have told me," Buffy insisted, her lips pinching tight. "You shouldn't have kept it to yourself."

"You're not one to talk, Buffy," Riley said and everyone looked at him as if surprised he was still around. "Your team has never been one for talking. Communication, or the lack of it, has always been a problem. Spike nearly destroyed us soon after the Initiative lost control of him by using the fact that we never communicate with each other."

"Soldier Boy has a point," Spike said, looking a little proud of himself.

"And we can't change what happened," Angel said, heading off the explosions of wounded pride Riley's bare truth was likely to cause. "You just need to look outside to see the ruin this has caused. We can't dwell on the past, not when the future is so tenuous." Angel sounded more magnanimous than he felt. He didn't want them to know how defeated he felt or how empty or how ridiculous it was for him to talk about not dwelling on the past. Dwelling and not communicating were his best skills. Part of him wanted to rage against the people around him and all the destruction their own egos and fears – his included – had wrought. If offering an olive branch helped, he was willing to do so.

"Maybe you ought to tell us what's happening that was so urgent you came all the way here, Giles," Riley suggested. "If me and my men can help, we will."

Giles shook his head. "I think maybe you would be best to remain here in Los Angeles, Riley. I have reports of instances that point to certain passages laid out in the Reichs prophecy."

"End of the word stuff?" Spike asked, checking his nails, trying to look bored. Angel knew he was anything but uninterested.

Giles nodded. "The prophecy was vague, of course." His lips pulled into a cynical line. "It mentioned the coming of age of an unnamed ancient cult and there was something about the son of Quor-Toth playing a role but we don't know what that role is or what he might be. Given that it's Quor-Toth, it can't be good. Our seers pointed to activity in Cleveland, London, Savannah, Vegas, and Montreal. There is some possible connection in New York City but that looks to be negligible, very possibly a diversion. I need to divide up and deploy at least a few of my Slayers to those cities to investigate or what happened in L.A. could happen to them. Willow, Kennedy, and Xander are in Sydney Australia checking out occurrences there."

"You have that many cities involved and very few well seasoned Slayers and you don't think that you need me and Peaches?" Spike huffed. "Oh right, we're evil."

Giles glared at him. "I have plenty enough Slayers to handle the problem. Faith's already been working the Cleveland Hellmouth with Rona. They can go back home. The coven and I can deal with London. Buffy, Montreal looks to be in more trouble than Vegas or Savannah. I'd like for you to head there."

Buffy nodded. "I will as soon as we've cleaned up the biggest messes here. I thought maybe we were getting things under control in the city."

"I'd agree. I think we're at a level my men and I can handle even without Slayer help," Riley said, looking relieved to be able to help.

"I'll go to New York City," Angel said, startling them all.

"Angel, this really doesn't concern you." Giles said, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"Since when have you known me not to help?" Angel asked sharply, his fragile patience fraying.

"And we're involved. You just don't know it. Two to one, I'm the son of Quor-Toth and I'd like to know how this involves me," Connor said and the surprised looks turned his way.

"I wouldn't be surprised that being the son of two vampires doesn't attract all kind of arcane attention to you, son, something I didn't really consider when I had the spell cast," Angel said, apologetically.

"I suppose me getting ran over by a van was a big clue to that oversight," Connor replied sardonically, getting to his feet.

"We're going to New York," Angel repeated, giving his son a 'shut up' look. "I told Lorne I needed a change. If Riley thinks his men can handle L.A. then I'll make arrangements to move. Accept the offer of help or don't. It won't change what I do."

"Don't forget Kathy. I need to make sure that she wants to go. I have to take care of her. I'm the only family she has left," Connor said, his voice suddenly thick with pain.

Angel nodded. "Of course."

Faith went over to Angel, stopping just shy of touching him. "Thanks, Angel. I'm glad for the help and I'm sorry…for everything."

Angel smiled faintly. "Thanks, Faith, I appreciate it. Giles, I'll ask Lorne if he's willing to head back to Vegas. Even if things didn't go so well for him there last time, he still has connections."

Giles just nodded as if facing the inevitable and deciding not to get in its way.

"I can go to Savannah for you, Rupert," Spike said. "I'll take Big Blue with me. She needs a keeper. Can't let her go to the Rotten Apple with these two. I think someone's uncontrolled lust makes her nervous." Spike's eyes settled on Connor.

The boy blushed. "So what? I have a thing for older women in leather. It's hot. Anyone got a problem with that?"

"Yes," Angel said strongly. "I have to be insane taking you to New York City. You need to go somewhere else to live."

Connor's lips skinned back. "Oh, like where?"

"Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I'm betting a nice Amish family would like you," Angel retorted.

"I broke three fathers already and you want me to go to Amish country? Not that I don't already know how to make my own clothes and do my own blacksmithing because hey, been there, done that, even grew up with that whole religious ethics going on but don't you think perhaps I might be a little much for them?" Connor asked, rolling his eyes.

"I'd wager you're a little much for most people, yobbo," Spike said and Connor sneered at him.

"He looks like Angelus when he does that," Buffy said quietly.

"So Willow's told me," Connor replied and Buffy looked shocked that he knew the witch.

"Giles, if you run into words like the Destroyer, the Bringer of Anguish, Torment and Death, and maybe references to the Tro-Clan or the cult of the great potentate Ul-Thar just know they all refer to Connor. I suspect you can see why," Angel said wearily.

"Sounds like something Buffy would say about me," Dawn said wryly and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Don't make me torment you, Dad." Connor grinned.

Angel grinned back. "No, of course not. You'd enjoy that too much. Couldn't have that."

Connor snorted.

"I'll keep you apprised of things as I learn them," Giles said, looking relieved that there was someone to burden this new threat besides him and his young ladies. There was just a hint of old times in the room now, trying to push through the tension. "I suppose we should try to set up a communications system since we'll be spread out in three countries at the very least. Riley did have a good point about that particular weakness of ours."

Angel nodded. "Sounds good. Son, why don't you go talk to your sister. The rest of us can start planning."

Connor nodded and headed into the warehouse to find Kathy. The rest of them settled down for a long night of planning.


	5. Moving Day

Chapter Five

"I'll go catch a quick dinner," Anne said, patting Gunn's hand. "You and Angel can talk."

"Thanks," Gunn said, smiling through his pain. He thumbed the morphine release trigger on the IV drip.

As she left the hospital room, Anne's eyes twinkled or so Angel thought. He didn't realize Gunn and Anne had gotten close but it made sense. Both had a passion for helping street kids. It was more common ground than Gunn ever had with Fred. Angel winced, wishing he hadn't thought of her. He was glad Spike volunteered to keep an eye on Illyria. At least Spike didn't have the emotional baggage of being Fred's 'savior' from Pylea only to fail her here.

Gunn glanced over at Angel, surprise in his narcotic-glazed eyes. "You're really leaving the city?"

Angel nodded. "Something might be happening in New York City that I need to look into."

"Might?" Gunn's lips pulled back into something that could have been a smile or a rictus of pain. "Sounds more like you're throwing in the towel and running."

"What's left to stay for? You and my son, that's it, Gunn. Even Spike is leaving," Angel said, too tired to be angry at the insult. What did it even matter any more if Gunn thought he was turning coward.

"And taking Illyria with him?" Gunn shifted on the bed, the effort seeming to exhaust him.

"Someone has to keep an eye on her," Angel replied, not meeting Gunn's gaze. "I'm too…"

"Tired?" Gunn supplied. "I get it, man, really I do. If I wasn't stuck here, I might go with you."

Angel had been trying hard to ignore Gunn's injuries, the broken legs and hip, the stab and claw wounds. His friend was lucky to be alive and faced months of rehabilitation. "Giles' reports of evil in New York can wait. I can stay here until you're healed, Gunn. I can look after you, find you somewhere to go when they let you out of here. There's nothing left that was ours."

"You don't have to stay, Angel. I'm going to Anne's place. It didn't get trashed. She could use the help and what I'll need most, you can't help me with, like providing transport to and from the physical therapists and all the doctors' appointments during the daylight hours." Gunn smiled wryly.

"You have a point." Angel sighed. "I'm useless, even to you."

"That's not true," Gunn said, an annoyed look pinching his face. "You being here means a lot. I know you have a whole city to be concerned about, not to mention Connor got hurt. I might not remember any of the stuff you told me about the kid…"

"I was hoping you would with the Orlon Window gone," Angel broke in, guilt lacing his words. "But it only seemed to affect those in the room. I'm sorry, Gunn."

Gunn waved him off. "It's okay, Angel. You had your reasons. I'm not thrilled with having my mind screwed with but I understand why you did it. You need to concentrate on Connor. It sounds like there's a lot of work to do there."

Angel nodded, running a hand over his hair. It sounded like such a simple task but it was far more complex. "More than you know."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be all right." Gunn sighed, losing steam as the morphine took affect. "Maybe later I'll look you up in the Big Apple."

"I won't lose touch," Angel said, wondering why that was suddenly important to him. Maybe because Gunn would be the last vestiges of Angel's tenure in Los Angeles. "I've learned how to use e-mail." He flashed a lopsided smile.

Gunn laughed then winced. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Sorry."

Shaking his head, Gunn said in a disbelieving voice, "I can't picture you using e-mail."

Angel held up his hands in surrender. "It is an amusing picture, I'll admit."

"Send Connor here if you get a chance," Gunn said. "My memories might be like Swiss cheese but I'd like to see him. Maybe we can start again. When he wasn't butting heads with me, he was a good kid. I think I remember that. I think he liked Fred, too."

Connor certainly liked Illyria in leather but Angel decided not to share that. "You and Fred showed him what this world was about. The troubles he had had nothing to do with you two. Holtz and I…we were responsible. I never had the chance to say thank you for helping with Connor."

"You're welcome." Gunn tried to pull up his blanket. Angel helped. "We tried our best."

"He appreciates it, I know," Angel said, wondering what Connor really thought. It was just one more thing he didn't know about his son and hadn't bothered to ask.

Gunn didn't address it one way or the other. "How bad is it out there, really?" He gestured to the thinly curtained window. "Anne won't tell me."

Angel paused, debating, then decided Gunn deserved the truth. "Bad enough but we're getting it under control, honestly."

"I wish I could help." Gunn toyed with the IV tubing that ran along his arm.

"You've done more than enough," Angel assured him. "You nearly died. I think you've more than acquitted yourself."

"Thanks," Gunn said, his eyes shutting.

"You get some rest, Gunn. I'll come back tomorrow night." Angel got up.

"Thanks," Gunn mumbled again.

Angel left the hospital, feeling conflicted. He didn't want to leave his friend behind but deep down he knew he couldn't stay here any longer. As Angelus he always knew when to move on. It was a gift his soul didn't seem to possess. He always got it wrong but this time the only thing missing was a neon sign flashing and saying 'move it.'

He hadn't been to New York City in a long time. He had put some things in storage in a few banks there, always managing to scrape together the money for the security box payments. He wondered what some of it was worth; bits and bobs of old jewelry taken from prey, some of it thrown at him when he, in desperation, tried to go home to Darla in the thirties and she wouldn't have him, coins and a few other things. Maybe he could sell some of it. He'd need to find a decent place for them to live, wondering how that was going to be affordable.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Kathy?" Connor took his sister's hand. His voice echoed in the nearly empty warehouse.

She nodded her head, letting her long hair shadow her face. "Yeah, I have to be, don't I?"

"No, I can stay here in L.A. with you," he assured her. He needed her to know he would do anything for her.

"No, I can't…I can't go back home, not with what happened there." She shuddered at the thought of being in the house where her parents were slaughtered then squeezed his hand. "I mean, you and I have to go back home to pack and that'll be hard enough. It just hurts that we don't know where Aunt Fiona is."

"Riley and his soldiers will keep looking for her," Connor promised, slipping an arm around her.

Kathy brushed back her long hair. "I just thought I could do more for her. I'm not blind, Connor. I know you're all special people here." She gestured around the warehouse. "We already knew that about you after the thing with the van but now you've found others of your kind."

Connor's lips pulled into a lopsided smile, thinking about the Slayers. "More or less. And there'll be some super people looking for Aunt Fiona. You can't help them with that but you might be able to help us in other ways."

Her brown eyes took on a doleful cast. "How? I'm nothing special."

"You're special to me." He smiled gently at his sister. "You can help with the research. We need to know how the demons can be defeated and there are a lot of books to sift through for information. You like history and stuff like that. You'll be a great help. If I know what I'm fighting, I'm more likely to live."

Kathy smiled in appreciation of his attempts to cheer her up. "You're a good brother, you know th"Yeah, but I like hearing it." He laughed then his momentary good mood frittered away. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but things will get better."

Kathy threw her arms around him. "I know you'll do whatever's needed to make it better."

Connor hugged her back. "I'll do my best."

Kathy rested against him for a moment then sat back. "I think I'll go talk to Dawn. I know you have a lot of work to do, more monsters to kill."

"Something like that," Connor agreed and watched his sister go. He only hoped he didn't disappoint her.

"Have you ever been to New York?" Connor lounged on one of the cots. It was daylight and he had been out all night with his father.

Angel shifted on another cot. "Several times. It's a lot like L.A. only colder, greyer and a little less friendly."

"No offense Dad, but L.A. hasn't been friendly to me." Connor made a face.

Considering his son's sour expression, Angel ran a hand through his thick hair. "I guess it hasn't."

"My sister really needs to get away from here." Connor sighed. "She didn't seem thrilled at first, but now she's getting into the idea. It seems less like we're abandoning Aunt Fiona."

"Glad to hear she feels that way. You know about Fiona…" Angel trailed off, a pained expression on his face.

"I know." Connor nibbled nervously on his thumb. "Have you gotten anywhere with Faith and Buffy? I've been keeping my distance from Faith since things are complicated enough."

"I haven't had a lot of time to even try to talk to them," Angel replied, knowing he was actively avoiding them to save them the time it would take to reject him.

"I think they're embarrassed," Connor said contemplatively. "You were right about Giles and since that was more than half the reason they were so bitchy to you, they're humiliated."

Angel nodded. "I'm sure you're right and I can't force them to really apologize or even talk to me. I just have to let them know the door isn't closed to them."

"Waiting for them to come to you." Connor nodded decisively but eyed his father with a shrewd expression. "But what if they don't?" 

Angel squirmed on the uncomfortable cot. "Then I guess it ends with them. I've made all the concessions I'm willing to make."

Connor wet his lips. "I get that. I don't blame you. You didn't do anything too wrong this time. You actually asked for help. Maybe you didn't say enough to make Giles understand the danger or maybe he wouldn't have listened no matter what you said. You tried to protect me and your friends. I guess the only thing you could have done to avoid all of this would have been to not join Wolfram and Hart." Connor's brow knitted. "Why did you do that? I know they were your enemies and hell, Lilah tried to have me dissected. I can understand why Faith and Buffy were confused about that."

"I did it to save you. Wolfram and Hart gave you your family," Angel said then glanced over at his son when something the boy had said sunk in. "Lilah tried what?"

"To dissect me. You trusted them to rework my brain and life? And you say I'm brain damaged." Connor sat up on the bed. "I guess you probably didn't have a lot of time to think out something less stupid than trusting Wolfram and Hart after you cut my throat."

"Something like that." Angel winced, trying to ban that image from his brain.

"Why didn't you just let me end?" Connor asked softly. "It's what I wanted."

Angel got up and sat next to his child. He ran a hand over Connor's soft hair. "Because I love you so much and I never had the chance to do right by you. If the adults in your life hadn't screwed up so much, you wouldn't have done what you did. I had to give you a second chance. You didn't really want to die, Connor. You thought it was the only way out and it wasn't."

Connor pressed a fist against his lips. "Some days I almost wish you hadn't done this. Others I'm so grateful to be here. It gets confusing."

Angel pulled his son against his side. "We'll work on things that matter while we're in New York, like being a family, me, you, and your sister. You and I will get another shot. Gunn wants one before you leave. Maybe we can make the days you regret fade away."

Connor smiled faintly. "Thanks, Dad. I'd like that. I want things to get better with you and me. Maybe starting somewhere new will help."

"I think it will," Angel said, thinking that it had to. He had lost most of his friends and his home. The two women who meant a lot to him still barely spoke to him. He had one shot at keeping the one thing he had left, the thing that had defined his life for two and half years. A new life with his son was worth the upheaval they were about to go through. If only he didn't have to leave behind the friends he still had, if only he could repair the rift between him and Buffy and Faith. But that ball was in their court. He had to concentrate on the things he could impact, like the life of his troubled son. He would go into this thinking it would work.

**Epilogue**

"This house is so wild," Kathy said, running up the stairs of the Queen Anne home Angel had bought.

"You can have first dibs on rooms," Connor promised her then turned to his father. "So you bought us a haunted house."

Angel gestured towards the ceiling of the home. "It lowered the price and this house is at the end of the street with a courtyard in the back, less collateral damage that way if a fight should find us at home and you know it always does." Angel smiled fondly, remembering Cordy's Dennis. "Besides, sometimes ghosts can be helpful."

"When I'm floating five feet off my bed, I'll remind you you said that." Connor's smirk faded. "I am worried about my sister as collateral damage."

"Trust me, I understand." Angel put a hand on the wooden banister. "Something isn't right here in the city."

"I know," Connor said, his eyes flicking towards the big living room window. "You can almost feel it, besides the normal big city creepiness. Didn't Giles say his seers thought New York City was a diversion?"

"I think he might be wrong. When we know more, I'll let him know what's going on."

Connor hopped up on the stairs. "Think any of them will end up joining us here?"

"Spike and Illyria more likely than not, once they get done with Savannah," Angel said. "Spike doesn't do well on his own. He's a joiner. He'll look for me. Gunn might come too, who knows."

"I found my room!" Kathy hollered from upstairs.

"Bet she picked the biggest and the best." Connor sighed. "I only asked about the others because I couldn't help noticing you picked a house that an army could live in without seeing each other. Can we afford it? I know Kat and I will be getting a lot of money from Mom and Dad's wills and insurance but I'm betting most of it will be in trust."

"I wouldn't take your money anyhow, son." Angel patted his arm. "Don't worry about money. I've come into a considerable sum."

Connor's eyebrows quirked up. "Oh?"

"Let's just say there was a little creative bookkeeping at Wolfram and Hart." Angel smirked.

"You embezzled money?" Connor grinned.

"Well, Gunn did, looking ahead to us defeating the firm and them not needing it any more. Just don't mention it to anyone," Angel cautioned.

Connor shot him a 'well, no duh,' look. "No, of course not. How much?"

"Not sure yet but Gunn said we could live well on interest alone."

"Until someone from another branch of Wolfram and Hart shows up," Connor said sardonically.

"We'll worry about that later." Angel wrinkled his nose. He didn't want to think about that. "Why don't you go pick out a room? I'll look into what I'll need to do to convert part of the basement into a bedroom."

"Good luck. Everyone knows the basements are where the ghosts go." Connor beamed.

"No, they like to go for teenaged boys' rooms." Angel grinned right back.

"Well, if she's a girl ghost." Connor shrugged.

"Try not to be disturbing, son." Angel wagged his head.

Connor laughed and headed upstairs. The vampire waited until the ersatz siblings were arguing over who got the biggest room and Kathy was insisting Connor go live in the tower where freaky brothers were supposed to live before Angel headed down to the basement. Oddly, in spite of all the recent misery, he had a good feeling about this.

The stairs were sound but creaked as Angel made his way down them. He remembered Darla approving of creaky stairs; it made it harder for people to sneak up on them and that theory had served him well over the years. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he stood staring out over the expanse. The basement ran the full length and width of the house. There would be plenty of room for him to set up a bedroom. But for the rest of it...

Turning, Angel shouted up the stairs. "Connor! Kathy! Come down in the basement and see this!" He heard a muffled shout of acknowledgement and a few seconds later, the thunderous approach of two pairs of sneakers thudding down the stairs.

"Wow," Connor said. "Creepy."

"It's big," Kathy added, wrinkling her nose at the evidence of cobwebs and dust.

Angel folded his arms, leaning against the wall. "I was thinking we might want to set up a sparring area down here. There's plenty of room and it has the advantages of the neighbors not being able to see in too easily and ask questions."

"Sparring?" Kathy looked up at him.

"A place where Connor and I can practice our fighting skills," Angel said, bending over slightly so he didn't loom over the girl. A memory tugged; Dawn, looking remarkably the same way that Kathy did at this minute. "You could work out with us."

"She could what?" Connor flung a horrified expression at Angel.

"I could?" Her eyes gleamed with an inner fire. "Could I learn to fight demons, too?"

"No. Absolutely not," Connor said, turning his sister to face him.

"Why not?" Her lower lip stuck out and she folded her arms, giving him a petulant look. "I bet I could get good at it."

"Not overnight," Angel said before Connor could get a word in. "It takes a long time to learn how to fight demons. But it's not a bad thing for you to learn how to protect yourself, not just from demons but from regular people."

The boy's eyes flashed wide at the idea that his sister might have escaped L.A. only to become prey to someone normal.

Angel went on. "Besides, learning martial arts can be good for you in other ways. Like, discipline. And building self-confidence." He patted Kathy's shoulder lightly. "If it's something you'd like to learn, I can teach you."

"Why not me?" Connor asked, belligerent. "I know as much about fighting as you do." The 'maybe more' floated unsaid in the air.

He smirked. "You never, ever want to teach a relative fighting, Connor. Believe me. It's a thankless task."

"You tried to train me," Connor pointed out.

"And look how that turned out for me," Angel said sharply. Turning his attention back to Kathy, he asked her directly. "So, what do you say? A training room? Here, in the basement?"

She nodded decisively. "Yes."

"All right, then." Angel clapped his hands together. "Tomorrow, we'll get started cleaning up down here."

"What about today?" Kathy asked. Connor looked up at his father as well.

He smiled. "Today, we find out where the nearest Chinese takeaway is." Dropping a hand on each of the kids' shoulders, he guided them towards the stairs. "I've suddenly got a yen for General Tso's."

Connor smiled up at his father, knowing the vampire didn't eat but there was no sense in cluing Kathy in on that. Angel smiled back, yes this definitely was the start of something.


End file.
